The Underland's Darkness
by AWarriorReborn
Summary: Gregor has been gone for four years. But when he has a heated argument with his mother, he decides it's time to leave. When he returns however, he comes face to face with a new threat, there is a Tyranical King, and a fierce rebellion. Can Gregor find Luxa, and will the warrior be able to make things right again?
1. Happy Thanksgiving

Author's Note:

This is my second Underland fanfiction, considering i ended my first on chapter 6… again sorry about that for all my readers of it. I want to try and make this story better, and I hope you can forgive me and continue on in this journey.

Warning, there is a minor use of foul language in this chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot in this story, everything else is due to Suzanne Collins

Gregor awoke in a sweat. He looked around him, confused as to where he was. And then the memories came rushing back.

Get out Ares! Ares get out!

Don't go Ares, okay? Don't go…

All his fault...He made the call…

He should've struck faster...Been quicker.

Ares the Flier, I bond to you…

All those years ago, and still the memories wouldn't leave him. He was at fault, his bond would still be living today if he hadn't screwed up. Gregor sighed, and wiping the sleep from his eyes sat up. He looked around his filthy bedroom, dirt stained the walls and the carpet, his clothing was thrown about the room, hanging off his bedpoles and off of the doorknob. His few possessions sat on a nearby bedside table; a few coins, his watch, a small pocket knife, his car keys, and the picture of her. He rarely used her name now, It hurt to much to be reminded of his past, but he could never bring himself to get rid of the picture, and so no matter what it was always tucked safely into his pocket.

Gregor reached up and felt the two chains tied around his neck, one holding a massive black claw, and the other holding a key. The key was to a small chest hidden under his bed, and the claw was Ares'. People gave him odd stares when they saw him fiddling with it in class, and one time a school bully had tried to remove it from his person. To say the least, that kid won't be hurting anyone else anytime soon.

Gregor slowly rose from his seated position and groaned, his body ached. He was no longer the scrawny little kid from New York, he was now the muscular and broad shouldered kid from Virginia. At the age of seventeen, he was also fairly tall, nearing the height of 5" 9'. Gregor walked over to his drawer and pulled on a black T-shirt, and slipped on a black and grey hoodie over it. He picked up some jeans from his floor and put those on as well. Despite his constant despair, his mother made him always wear long clothes to cover up his scars from his time in the Underland. It was Thanksgiving today, and just like every other year he had nothing to be thankful for. He hadn't had anything to be thankful for in exactly four years, two months and five days. Not since he last saw the girl he loved.

Gregor stumbled down the stairs in his sleepy stupor, following the scent of recently cooked bacon. Despite his weariness, he could hear the sleepy yawns of his sister Margaret, formerly known as Boots. His other sister Lizzie was sitting at the table doing her homework, and his dad was making the food. His mother had already left for work. His grandmother wasn't there, because she had died during the drive to Virginia from a heart attack.

"Good morning Gregor, and happy Thanksgiving." Said his father, shooting him a quick smile before returning to his cooking. Gregor replied with a grunt of acknowledgement and plopped himself down to a breakfast of eggs and bacon, a specialty for Thanksgiving. Gregor's plan for today was the same as usual, he didn't care if it was the holidays, he had work to do even if it was a fruitless and hopeless task. However Gregor still held on to hope that he would find what he was looking for; a sign. Everyday he would spend hours searching the web, watching the news and doing research. He was looking for anything that could hint at a possible new entrance to the Underland, or if someone had actually found it and wanted to spread the word. So far Gregor has followed multiple rumors about entrances and such, but all ended in failure.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, "Can you get that for me Gregor? My hands are full." His father said, and Gregor silently obliged, rising to his feet and swallowing the last of his delicious food. He walked to the door, and opened it to reveal that nobody was there. He looked around, and then something caught his eye; a small orange piece of plastic protruding from a nearby bush. He laughed to himself, and ducked as the bullet whooshed over his head, embedding itself in the doorframe behind him. Gregor rolled backwards into his house and grabbed his own gun, an M16 complete with hand grip, an arm sling, and enhanced iron sights. Taking quick aim he fired shots into the bush, and was pleased to hear the yelp of surprise and pain from the person hidden. Reloading his mag, Gregor approached the bush as a boy no older than him crawled out.

"Everytime Gregor! I can never manage to shoot you down by surprise!" Nick exclaimed. Nick was his one and only friend in Virginia, he was a well muscled boy with long blond hair tucked back behind his ears. In his hand he held his Airsoft sniper rifle, orange tip and all. Gregor gave a slight grin, it was because of his rager abilities he knew, but he could never tell anyone about that.

"What can I say Nick? I'm just that good." He replied, with sarcasm drowning his tone. Nick grinned and beckoned for Gregor to follow him, and together they made their way to their cars.

They drove to a nearby paintball/airsoft field, and prepared to kick some serious ass. They were a two man team versus all five man teams, but they still won constantly, due to Gregor's superior reflexes and senses.

And so the day went on, and for one of the few times in his life since the Underland, Gregor enjoyed himself. He only did when he was with Nick, and only when they were fighting together.

That afternoon, his family sat down to a Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, potatoes and stuffing. His favorite was by far the potatoes, mashed or baked. Tonight they were mashed, topped with a thick gravy.

"Let's play a game!" Gregor's mother said, "We should all say something we are grateful for." Everyone but Gregor nodded their consent, and his mother pretended not to notice his discomfort. "I am grateful for how far our family has come, and how we have managed to stick together." His mother said, and then Lizzie went next.

"I am grateful for shrimp and cream sauce, and how good dad can make it." She said. She too struggled to forget about the Underland, but mainly her rat friend Ripred, whose favorite dish was just that; shrimp and cream sauce. Gregor's dad smiled and gave his thanks, and then said his, followed by Margaret. And then it was Gregor's turn. The whole family stopped eating and gave expectant looks his way. He looked back at them, and replied in a monotone voice.

"Absolutely nothing." And with that he stood and walked to his room.

It was the middle of the night when Gregor woke to the sound of the clicking of keys and the beeping of a computer. He opened his eyes slightly and squinted towards the light. What he saw shocked him. His mother was going through his search history! He leaped to his feet in anger, startling his mother.

"What are you doing!?" He yelled, loud enough that he most likely woke the rest is the house.

"Gregor you need to let go!" She replied. He knew what she meant, she had seen that all he had searched up was Underland related.

"Let go of your pointless past! Let go of those stupid people who ruined your life!"

That pissed him off, she had gone to far that time. "Stupid!? Pointless!? Are my friends stupid to you?! They are my friends, every one of them! Not to mention the one I love! The last four damn years have been living hell for me! And why didn't I just leave when I got my car? Because this damn family was still falling apart." He yelled, his face red in fury. He saw the pained look on his mother's face as the tears coursed down her cheeks. And then realization at what he said replaced some of her hurt.

"Love?" She said faintly, "You never to-" The end of her sentence was cut off as Gregor pulled the key from his neck and pulled the hidden chest out from under his bed. He unlocked it, and revealed the stacks of batteries, flashlights and the knife it contained. He tossed in his pocketknife and his wallet, then relocked it. He grabbed a shirt and shoved it over his head, followed by the chain holding the key. He grabbed his keys and the photo, and shoved them roughly into his pants pocket. He heaved the chest onto his shoulder and marched from his room, blatantly ignoring the confused questions from his mother. When he reached the living room, Margaret sat there, a puzzled expression and tired eyes seen on her face.

"What's happening Gregor?" She said. Gregor just looked at her and and spoke the words she would remember forever. "I love you Boots, remember that." And then he left, slamming the front door shut behind him. He quickly made his way to his car, a black pickup with a small bed. He opened the back door of his car and tossed in the chest, and then jumped up into the driver's seat of the truck. He jammed the car keys into the ignition and slammed on the reverse, pulling out of his driveway as his father opened the front door. He took off down the road without looking back, he didn't plan on returning anytime soon.

He had some people to meet again.

It had been awhile.

Exactly four years, two months, and five days.

Happy Thanksgiving, Bitches.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed! There was some foul language, but not an overload. So I am sorry for that if it offends you in any way, there won't be much more of it in the future, I just thought it brought out and displayed Gregor's emotions more appropriately. Let me know how I did in the reviews! Cya all!


	2. The Charlestons

Author's Note:

My thanks to these people who reviewed and in doing so made this chapter:

Vengeous

(Long time supporter, check his stories)

Pyro159

(Nice long review, saw the story better than I did myself. Also, I saw you didn't want him to head straight into the Underland. Frankly I agreed, but already wrote a large portion of this chapter. Taking in mind your comment, I took care to...change some factors.)

Ssi'ruuk

(Thanks for the correction!)

HumanHedgehog

(Made me laugh too)

MyName

(What about his friend?)

A happy reader

(Aye, I agree better than the last story)

Thanks to all these people and more who I know will continue to support this story.

Here we go!

It was a long drive to New York City, nearly seven hours. The whole time Gregor thought about his game plan. First things first, he would drive to the nearest department store to Central Park. He already had a ton of batteries, some flashlights, and a few knives, but he needed a food supply. Once he had food he would buy a backpack to hold his equipment as he made his way to Regalia, the human city of the Underland. He debated whether or not to stop by and say hello to his old neighbor Mrs. Cormaci but decided against it, he wanted to be back in his real home as soon as possible.

Gregor was currently taking the exit that would bring him into the city when he let his feelings of doubt creep in. The past few years he made sure to keep these thoughts at bay, but now when he was so close, he couldn't control them. What if Regalia wasn't there? If the entire thing got destroyed? It was completely possible, because the underlanders were such a war-like people. Always at war, with the gnawers when he was there, and possibly still. When he left, Queen Luxa had established a peace between the gnawers and humans, but he did not know if the the peace would hold. He tried to push these thoughts away as he pulled into a parking spot, but to no avail. What if the Underland's caves collapsed on the people? That would have been catastrophic, so many dead! But he knew this wasn't possible, otherwise New York City would have sunken into the earth's floor.

He hopped out of the car and felt the cold autumn breeze ruffle his thick black hair. He ran his hand back through his locks and proceeded into the store.

Gregor walked out of the building with a purpose. He had managed to buy everything he needed, and for cheap too. Although money didn't matter to him anymore, he was leaving this world behind. He hopped back into the car and revved the engine, pulling out he realized just how close he was to his long ago home.

Gregor arrived in Central Park in twenty five minutes. He parked his car in a secluded alley and walked towards the stone he had thought about so often. He looked around to see if anyone was about, and was glad to see that the park was empty. Gregor lifter up the heavy rock slightly, and then pushed it aside revealing the Underland entrance. He crawled down into the darkness, pulling the rock back over the hole above him. His backpack was a black nylon hiking pack, and contained many batteries and spare flashlights. Not to mention a few rolls of duct tape. He had a waterproof flashlight taped to his right arm, a technique he learned during his warrior years in the land down under. Tied to his left hip was the foot long hunting dagger that had been stored in his supply chest. It was a shoddy little tool, but it would do its' intended purpose; to kill. In his pack was also his pocket knife, which was actually a multi tool complete with the knife, a saw, a screwdriver, some scissors, and for some reason a corkscrew.

Gregor sighed and then began his steady march into the darkness, following the cemented stone stairs that gradually turned into cold hard rock. He remembered the way, he had traveled this path enough times to end up forgetting when it mattered most.

Gregor soon reached the ledge where this cavern hung above the waterway; the Underland version of an ocean. A swirling rapid ocean full of whirlpools and evil sea monsters. Gregor had no immediate plans to go for a swim, but it might end up being his only option. He would have risked the entrance in his old apartment, but he had no way of knowing whether or not the currents were in full effect. Also, he didn't know how to get into the building without raising suspicion, as he wouldn't be leaving through any main entrances.

And that's when he heard it, a slight snicker from behind. Gregor reacted quickly, spinning around to face the threat, but he was still to slow. Whatever was behind him shoved him backwards, sending him flailing to the dark waters below. The fall seemed to take forever, even though in reality it was only a few seconds. And then he hit the churning waters, and everything went black.

His eyelids snapped open, and then shut again as the light burned him. He tried to reopen his eyes, this time slowly. As his eyes adjusted, his surroundings slowly came into focus. He was lying down on a bed in a small room that looked like it might have belonged to a young child. There were no windows, only one doorway that led to the stone hallway outside. Next to the door his belongings were piled, and beside him was a note left on a stack of fresh clothing.

Dear Overlander,

We saw you fall from the air, and we just expected that your bond would swing by to save you, so we did not worry. We were wrong and hereby apologize for our mistake. You washed ashore and we were surprised to see you were an Overlander! We took you in and brought you to our old son's room, which he slept in before he drowned so long ago. We tended to your injuries, as I am sure you noticed the bandaging over your body. You broke three bones in your back, and your right arm. That was quite a fall you took, and you are very lucky to have survived it.

-Your Hosts, Mr and Mrs, Charleston

The handwriting was somewhat sloppy, as if written by a frail hand. He looked down at his body, and sure enough he was covered in bandages. Sighing he sat up, and then fell back again from the pain. He tried twice more and then blacked out from pain. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew an elderly man and woman were by his side attempting to feed him some porridge. He obliged by slightly opening his mouth and let himself be fed like the little boy he felt like.

"Who...who are you?" Gregor groaned out, "And thank you for helping me" he added. The old couple smiled, and the man responded, "We are just simple old fishing folk who decided to help out a young boy in need." Now Gregor understood, when he was knocked down into the waters, this silver haired and violet eyed man must have seen him and come to his aid. His partner had similar features, although her hair was longer and her eyes had a deeper look of understanding and wisdom than the old man's eyes, which were young and full of fun and adventure. Gregor nodded his consent and tried yet again to sit up, some of his strength had returned, but still it was a minimal amount compared to his previous energy.

"How long was I out?" He tried, his voice forced.

"Nigh on your fifth night you are." The woman said, her voice surprisingly soft. The man besides her grunted his confirmation, and that is what set him off.

The memories of his time before the fall made him shiver. Leaving his family, the drive to New York, the creature who was lurking behind him in the passage above the waterway, and then the brief pain when he hit the water.

With a grunt, Gregor pushed himself to his feet. The two elders starred in open-mouthed shock at his accomplishment.

"You must have an urgent cause, or immense strength to stand after such an incident, even I in my younger days would not have been able to accomplish that feat without so much as a wince as you did." The old man said, in surprise.

"A little bit of both, good man." Came Gregor's pained reply. He stumbled to his feet, and with a start realized that all his gear was naught to be found.

Your equipment could not be found, and for that we apologize." Said the man, standing. "Even so, we took some time to replace what you may of had. He gestured to the wall on his right, where he saw a rusty old sword, a leather pack and many empty canteens. Another item sat there, a wooden staff that would work as both a walking stick as it would crutches. This was a true gift as wood was scarce in the Underland since the only tree-bearing land was destroyed by Hamnet, Luxa's uncle, so long ago.

The gear was no hw here near what he had had on his pack, as that would have been inaccessible to underlanders, but these would serve him well. However a problem still existed, actually more than one. First, he had no food, and these people seemed poor enough as it was, and he had no desire to take their food. Another problem was that he had no clue where to find Regalia. He supposed he could just follow the Waterway upstream, but there were many unknown terrors that lay in wait there, and despite his determination, Gregor had no wish to confront them.

"You must eat, your strength will return in time, Overlander." The woman's use of the word Overlander startled him, he had not been called so in many years. He must have shown some form of uneasiness or shock because the woman asked how he was.

"Fine...fine. I am fine thank you, it has just been many years since I was last called that name, and it brought back memories I have kept buried throughout my...absence."

A pure look of absolute shock, recognition, disbelief and relief showed upon both of their faces. It was then Gregor realized the full implications of what he had just said. During his time in the Underland, and only two Overlanders had ever been to the Underland and lived; the Warrior and the Warrior's father. Considering his young appearance, he could only be one of them: the Warrior himself.

"Aye, it is me. The Warrior you may know me by, but please, call me Gregor." He said, in response to the shock on the older people's faces. "Now please, may I obtain food and water? Also instructions on how to reach Regalia from here, I do not know the way." Gregor abandoned his earlier goal not to take from these people, the relief that had been in their eyes proved to him that something was yet again afoot in the Underland, something dire enough that these people thought he would be able to amend. The Charlestons, as was their name, nodded in stunned obligation, rising and scurrying out the door to do his bidding. It occurred to him that he could very easily command anything from many people in the Underland, and they would oblige. He shuddered and pushed the thought from his brain, he did not want to have such power, and yet he did. He bared many expectations of random everyday people, many higher then he thought were necessary. They entrusted their hope, trust and respect in him. Or at least he used too, but the looks of awe in the two elder's eyes told him otherwise, he was still talked about in the Underland, perhaps even a legend.

Gregor walked over to the pile of equipment, and reached for the blade. He drew it from its sheath, a slight ring echoing about the small chamber room. The blade was not a masterpiece, it was more of a fire poker than a weapon, but in the right hands it would still cause mass destruction. The right hands. A rager's hands. His hands.


End file.
